#spelling is weird

[you-need-not-apply]

Genuinely who is paying for ad free browsing on tumblr? The ads are half the fun

[thegeekylady52]

Chag Chanukah Samaech!

[leafaske]

the proposal was *checks entry 17* not accepted he definitely isn't soliciting the government for resources to build a portal gun for funsies, no sir

referencing this amazing photoset of weird al (thank you @thefloatingstone for putting this on my dash)

[defiancecomics]

Patreon Post

I think this was the second sticker I drew in general. I had the banana first, then it was this one. Hopefully, there's gonna be a lot more of these, and I'll end up drawing so many that I figure I'll just sell them in packs or some shit.

[sp0o0kylights]

Part Two / Part Three

Ao3

It's 8:45 am. 

The Red Barn, which is neither red nor a barn, has been open since 7, catering to the early morning crowd with rounds of coffee and pancakes.

It was no Benny's, but given the size of Hawkins and the lack of alternatives?

No one was complaining. 

They were all too happy someone had opened up another watering hole for the working class man (or lass, as Foreman Shelly will dutifully remind you) which meant the place was packed with both day and night shift regulars, passing each other in staggered waves. 

It also meant Wayne was sharing the packed breakfast counter with a warehouse worker by the name of John Cheese on one side and Police Chief Jim Hopper on the other.

He doesn't mind it.

Wayne's a man on a budget thinner than his shoelace, but he's also a man who understands that small indulgences need to be made in life or you didn't truly live it.

This is how he convinces himself to get a coffee at the Barn after work everyday, reading the morning newspaper and chatting with the other regulars before he heads home.

Bonus, it gets him out of the rapid-fire franticness that is his nephew in the mornings.

(All the love in the world wouldn't change the fact that all that Eddie came with a lot of noise. 

The kind of noise that was a tried and true recipe for a headache right after a long shift.)

As a trade off, Wayne went to bed early so he could wake up in time for dinner with Eddie.

 It was a nice little system that worked for them. 

A routine Wayne was reminiscing fondly on, when the pager on Chief Hopper started to chirp. With a sad moan, the man fished out a few crumbled bills and threw them on the counter, abandoning his coffee to trudge out to his truck.

This was not unusual.

Particularly recently, given they were but a scant few weeks past that whole mall ordeal. A fact all too easy to remember when one caught sight of the Chief’s still healing face. 

What was unusual, was when he came storming through the doors a minute later, face now a furious shade of red with his hat clenched in his hand. 

The energy in the room shifted, taking on something a little watchful as Hopper swept his gaze from side to side, like a dog on the hunt.

Judging by the way he stilled when he caught sight of Wayne, the latter assumed he found what he was looking for and could only pray it was the person behind him. 

(He liked John, but Wayne had enough trouble this year and he wasn't looking for any more.) 

"Munson." Hopper called, striding over and dashing all his hopes. There was a choked fury emitting off him, and given the way John audibly scooted his chair away, Wayne knew everyone had clocked it. 

"Chief." Wayne greeted, inclining his head towards him.

Idly he wondered what the hell his nephew had done this time.

'So help me if he stole all the town's lawn flamingos and put them in that damn teachers yard again….'

Wayne didn't even get to finish his threat, the Chief was already next to him. 

"Mind if I have a word outside?" 

Dammit Eddie.

"Ah hell, what's he done now?" Wayne asked with a sigh, eyeing the coffee he had left morosely. 

There was still almost half of it left and the pot had tasted fresh for once. 

"What?" Hopper said, and then Wayne got to watch as the man ran through an entire chain of thoughts, each one punctuated by things like; "Oh," and "No. " 

"This is something else." He finished, flushed and fidgeting, anger making him antsy. 

Wayne stared up at him. 

"Something else?" He repeated, not sure he heard.

"Yes, something else." Hopper snapped impatiently, before leaning forward, voice dropping low. "This doesn't involve your nephew, but we both know you owe me for how many times I've let that kid off, Wayne. That's a damn big favor I've been doing you and I'm calling it in." 

If it were any other cop, it'd sound like a threat.

It was Hopper though. The same Hopper who Wayne had gone to school with.

They'd never been friends exactly, but they had been friendly and remained so. Even now, after Wayne had taken Eddie in, who’d gone on to be an undeniable pain in the local PD’s ass. 

Hopper really did let the kid off easy. 

Wayne really did owe him. 

So he put down his coffee with a sigh, passed his newspaper over to John and stood up, motioning for Hopper to lead the way. Got into the Chief’s truck when he waved him in, and didn’t make a big fuss when Hopper tore out of the parking lot like hell was about to open up under them. 

"Not a lot of the kids involved in the mall fire could be identified, but a few of them were." Hopper started, which felt nonsensical given the utter lack of context. 

Wayne hummed to show he’d heard. 

“Some of them got banged up more than others, and a lot of people wouldn’t be surprised if they didn’t make it.” 

A pause, Hopper white knuckling the steering wheel as he swung the truck hard around a turn. 

“For certain people, those kids dying is the preferred outcome.” 

A mix of fear and warning swopped low in Wayne’s gut. 

"Jim." Wayne said, dropping the use of a last name because if any situation called for it, it was this one. "What exactly are you saying here?" 

The Chief chewed on his split lip. 

"I know you're smart, Munson. I know you, and plenty of others are aware that something's happening, been happening in this town." 

Which was a hell of an understatement if you asked Wayne. Plenty of the upper classes might be able to bury their heads when it came to the military parading about and the flow of “accidents” they brought in their wake, but then, they didn't see all the other signs of trouble. 

The absolute oddity that was Starcourt’s construction. 

How it had been built using primarily outside crews and anyone who'd taken a singular look at the site could tell you they were building it weird. 

Weird as in it looked like it would have a multi-level basement, and not what a mall should have. 

Then there were the constant electrical problems. The backups upon backups that failed. The late night delivery vans headed out to the Hawkins Lab. 

The things in the woods that kept spooking all the deer and the weird markings they left behind that unnerved even the hardest of hunters. 

This didn’t even touch the Russian military that more than one reputable person swore was hanging around. 

The very same Wayne himself had seen, on more than one occasion. 

(And you couldn’t deny it; those boys were military. Past or present, it didn’t matter. They moved like a threat, and Wayne treated them like one, staying well clear.)

"Yeah." Wayne admitted. "I also know better than to stick my nose in it." 

"That makes you a smarter man than me.' Hop complained under his breath, but the anger was self directed. 

"The point is, there are some government types crawling around, doing shit they shouldn't be doing, and more than a few of them are in the business of making people disappear.” 

This was absolutely not where Wayne had thought this was going. 

Hopper took a breath. Than another.

A third.

It was starting to make Wayne nervous, in a way he hadn’t felt since a social worker had brought Eddie to him for the last time and final time. It was the feeling that things were about to shift in a way that would change the course of his life. 

"Steve Harrington is sitting in my office right now, beat to absolute shit.” Hopper admitted.

Wayne gave him the floor to talk, letting him go at his own pace without interruptions. 

“He's there because some of those government types finally figured out his parents are never fucking home.” 

Wayne sucked in a breath. 

"We both know his parents, Wayne. Harassing them to come back and take care of their kid won't work, and frankly, I’m beginning to think all the phone lines are tapped anyway.” He winced here, like voicing such a thing pained him, and Wayne understood.

It sounded a little too out there, a little like he was buying into a conspiracy. 

Except he wasn’t. Wayne knew he wasn’t. 

Jim Hopper might have been an alcoholic, a man living in pain and unconcerned with his own life, but if there was one thing he was solid for, it was shit like this.

He didn’t jump to conclusions. Didn’t believe the first thing people told him. Even at his worst, he did the work to see what was really happening, and made his decisions from there. 

(Even if that decision was to accept the occasional bribe, or drive an intoxicated 13 year old Eddie home instead of hauling his ass into the drunk tank.) 

“Harrington won’t admit it, but he’s got a hell of a concussion if not a full blown brain injury and he’s not reacting as well as he should to Suites trying to run him off the road.” Hopper continued. Angrily, he added, “Damn kid didn’t even come to me until they tried to break into his house last night.” 

His fingers squeezed the wheel so hard Wayne heard the leather creak in protest. 

“I’d take him, but my cabin is being renovated from…” He trailed off, heaving a sigh.

 “A storm, so me and my kid are bunked with the Byers right now and we’re full up.” 

Hawkins hadn't had a storm like that in years, but Wayne wasn't going to call him out on the blatant lie. 

“I need a place to stash him for the next few weeks, until I can work with some of the higher ups sniffing around, and get them to call off their attack dogs.” 

“And you want to stuff him with me.” Wayne finished. 

“I know you don’t have the room.” Hopper admitted easily, stopping his truck at a red light and locking eyes with the other man. “But I also know you’ll be the last place anyone would look for him.” 

'Ain’t that the damn truth.'

“You’re really gonna go this far for a Harrington?” Wayne asked, instead of the million of other questions leaping to the forefront of his mind. 

This one, he figured, was the most important. 

“He’s not his dad.” Hopper said, as firm as Wayne had ever heard him. “He’s not either of his parents, and he saved my little girl.” 

Wayne hadn’t even known Hopper had another little girl, but he also knew better than to ask where the guy had found one. 

It wasn’t his business, just as nothing else Jim was involved in, was his business.

Except, apparently, Steve Harrington. 

“I’m gonna need my own truck if I’m takin' Harrington home.” Wayne said easily, instead of bothering to ask anything else.

If Jim said the kid was different than his daddy, then he was--because when it came to things like that, Jim didn't lie.

No point in it. 

“I know. Just needed to talk to you first, without anyone overhearing.” Jim said, before swinging the police truck around and heading back to the Barn. 

“I’ll stay in contact with you, and I’ll make sure Harrington pays you for the pleasure of your hospitality. Just--” Here Jim cut himself off, looking like he was struggling an awful lot with the next thing he wanted to say. 

Once again, Wayne waited him out.

“Don’t let Steve fool you. He’s good at fooling people, letting them think he’s okay. Too good at it, and between the two of us, I have a real good idea of the reason why.” 

A memory came to Wayne unbidden, of Richard Harrington and Chet Hagan, beating some poor kid in the highschool bathroom bloody. The grins on their faces as the poor guy wailed for them to stop.

How they almost hadn’t. 

“Alright.” Wayne agreed.

Hopper swung back into the Barn's parking lot, and Wayne moved right to his own beat to shit truck, ready to follow Jim back to the police station.

He wasn’t a praying man, not anymore, but Catholisim wasn’t a thing that let you go easy. 

He found himself sending up a quick prayer, fingers flicking in a kind of miniature version of the sign of the cross. 

Considering his own kid’s history with Harrington, and the sheer small space of the trailer? 

Wayne had a feeling it was needed.

[flamingpudding]

A lot can happen in 1 minute

And the worst part was Bruce had not been able to do anything to stop the chaos as all of this started right in the middle of a Gala, his children and him attended.

Bruce could do nothing but watch with growing internal horror as he stared at what was happening before him, champagne glass still in hand.

It all started with a fanatic suddenly getting the entire galas attention. Screaming something about Bruce Wayne will fall for them as they slammed some sort of magic duck thingy on the ground.

A second later, John Constantine, off all people, appeared yelling about finally finding the lad that stole a highly dangerous artifact while green smoke rose towards the ceiling of the hall.

By now some guest have started screaming and started to evacuate while other appeared curious thinking this was some sort of show. And shamefully Bruce had to admit that he lost sight of his children during this.

Though not even 10 seconds after Constantines entrance Bruce spied one of his children, Nightwing, crashing into the hall in gear and tackling the fanatic that was now yelling something at the smoke about fulfilling their end of the deal and granting their wish of tying Bruce Wayne to them.

5 seconds later he noticed Constantine was chanting something and the gathering smoke below the ceiling now started to glow.

At this point Bruce really wanted to dip out and join the scene as Batman but was rooted in place by a buisness partner clinging to him and trying to pull him to safety.

Another 3 seconds passed, and the smoke glowed brightly in Lazarus green. Worried Bruce tried to at least find one of his other children aside from the one that was still wrestling with the fanatic and was internally horrified to make eye contact with a wide eyed Jason and his glowing green eyes.

In the following 7 seconds he had tried to get to his son, but before he could even manage to get rid of the buisness partner still holding on to him a bright light blinded everyone for another 4 seconds.

Once their sight returned it took them another 5 seconds to realize that one the smoke was gone, two John Constantine was cursing up a storm holding a black haired kid and three the fanatic used the light to escape.

There was a stunned silence of 3 seconds before John Constantine looked around the room and suddenly zeroed down on Bruce. Bruce did not stiffen as the Brite looked at him with narrowed eyes, then down at the teen in his arms before marching over to him within the next ten seconds.

"You! You're Bruce Wayne, right? Congratulations, you got another kid via magic now. Here is the kid and my card. Call me if anything weird is happening with them." Before Bruce could even say anything, the teen was disposed into his arms together with John's apparent business card. The magican turned away from Bruce before marching over to his son in gear and starting to drag him out.

"Nightwing! Help me catch this bloody magic thief before some other summoning shit with stolen artifacts to spice up another rich guys ball or whatever goes down! I got a tracker spell on them! And call Bats while you're at it"

Right at the one minute mark. The chaos concluded to the point that Bruce Wayne was standing in the middle of a gala with a teen in his arm that was apparently magically made to be his and the fanatics child.

That was when the next kind of chaos broke out as his reminding children fought their way over to him through the suddenly coming back to live press and reporters that started to bombard him with questions about the unconscious teen in his arms.

[checkeredpattern]

Birthdays

[mcybree]

[bytebun]

attempts at consideration (misunderstood) (ingo would battle all day if he could) (don’t you wish you could hang out with characters without having to beat stuff up)

ID under cut

4-panel comic titled “do you have games on your phone”.

PANEL 1: Ingo recalls his Pokemon. He thinks: She’s been looking worn out. Ingo says: We don’t have to battle every time.

 PANEL 2: Akari droops. It’s her 32nd attempt at the eevee path of solitude. She thinks: He’s tired of this, huh... Akari says: Oh, uh, then...

PANEL 3: Text pointing to Akari says: doesn’t know what “normal” friends do. Akari says: ...Do you wanna play games on my phone? PANEL 4: They have their backs turned, looking at Akari’s phone. Ingo looks very distressed, with his hands on his head. He yells: AKARI YOU MUST CEASE “SURFING” ON THIS SUBWAY!! IT IS VERRRY UNSAFE!! Akari replies: lol don’t worry it’s a magic skateboard. It’s implied they’re playing subway surfers. Out of frame, Kamado comments: What are those two doing...

[wu-does-art]

The Titans curse, folks

[hollis-art]

the silliest of sillies

[chaserofstars11]

my james potter is bisexual, bilingual, ambidextrous, and a bicycle

regulus is a bitch (in a hot way)

[the-holy-ghosted]

congrats 2 henry peglar for being the only bitch confirmed as to be Fucking That Old Man

[icewindandboringhorror]

HAPPY 16TH BIRTHDAY!!! To this elderly bapy boye!!! he...!!!

[not-an-alien-scientist]

Barometric Pressure

Kay: *rubbing some gel onto her wrist and hand*

Si'miel: Kay that is quite a strong scent, I thought most humans preferred their "perfume" to be only slightly noticeable

Kay: Huh? Oh, no, sorry, this is just a painkiller. Smells funky but works decently well

Si'miel: *pales a little* pain ...killer?!

Kay: sorry, I'm out of sorts right now, its a pain reducer. Can you do me a favor?

Si'miel: Oh yes, I will gladly help you in your time of pain *feels slightly honored most humans simply tell one 'don't worry about it' and never consider one's ability to help*

Kay: Alert the ship's maintenance engineers that the atmospheric pressure is dropping

Si'miel: . . . Kay I'm certain the sensors would have alerted them to that!

Kay: *slips on an odd black device that covers her wrist and partially her hand* Well the sensors are faulty. My joints are all messed up but especially my ankle and wrist. So I know.

Si'miel: *alarmed* We must go to the infirmary immediately!

Kay: nah I used my gel med and splinted my wrist so it can't move mu- -

Si'miel: You've immobilized your own body?!

Kay: *deep sigh* Si'miel us humans sometimes have bad joints and when atmospheric pressure drops the pain in our joints increases. My right wrist is just slightly worse than the others, so making sure it doesn't move around as much prevents an increase in pain.

Si'miel: You..... you just walk around with your joints hurting? It...it can detect pressure changes? How? Do all humans have such a skill?

Kay: Bad joints are bad joints not much I can do about it. And no, not everyone can, I'm so envious of people whose joints haven't gone on strike. Anyways we have no idea... well I have no idea why, but I can just feel it. The ship's atmosphere is definitely dropping. *sad smile* haven't felt the awful sensation it gives since I left Earth, I just really want to go have some soup and watch whatever dumb movies we got recently, so can you let the engineers know?

Si'miel: *nervously twitches their front appendages worried for their human crewmate* I will let them know .... are you sure you don't need the infirmary?

Kay: Yeh definitely sure, had this issue since I was 21, sucks but hey thats life. Thanks for letting them know, I knew I could count on you *heads off*

___

*Si'miel walks into the main work station of the ship maintenance engineers*

Engineer 1: *looks up* do you need something?

Si'miel: I do not wish to insult your work but a human crew mate informed me that the atmospheric pressure of the ship is dropping. I'm certain you would know if such a thing were true but.... the manual on humans says we should not ignore them when they use the phrase "I can just feel it/ I can just tell" so I thought I would alert you to her statement

Engineer 1: Thats not a possibility our signals would have gone off, but *sighs* new protocols state that we can't ignore a human's warning *rolls two of their 4 eyes... an odd expression they ironically picked up from humans*

Engineer 2: I'll check manually *heads down the corridor a bit and after a few minutes*. . . Activate protocol 651!!!

Engineer 1: W-what?? thats not possible

Engineer 2: *running back to the work station* just do it! Another hour of the pressure dropping will make the system go critical, we'd have to emergency land, and we'd both lose our jobs now do it!

Engineer 1: *hurriedly gets to work*

Si'miel: interesting so it is tru- - -

Engineer 1 & 2: Be quiet!

Si'miel: *startled and heads away without interrupting them further*

___

*Si'miel finds the lounge Kay decided to relax in, an empty soup bowl on the table next to the lounge chair, the TV being the only source of light in the room*

Si'miel: *takes the seat next to Kay* Kay, when you say "hey that's life" what do you- -

Kay: *snores*

Si'miel: ah *takes the blanket draped on one of the the other chairs and lays it across Kay's body* With the pressure fixed you may feel better.... sleep well human friend...

[almondpiglet]

serirei doodles n lil comics